


And There Was Us

by madeinessos



Series: Author's Favourites [23]
Category: Us (Movie 2019)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Clones, F/F, Horror, Religious Imagery & Symbolism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-12
Updated: 2019-10-12
Packaged: 2020-12-13 18:37:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21002327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madeinessos/pseuds/madeinessos
Summary: What was She if not Addie's shadow? What was She if not Addie's rib? She had even taken Addie's name.





	And There Was Us

**Author's Note:**

> The pronoun acrobatics here, whew.

The summerhouse had smelled fresh, blood oranges and palm oil and soft beds. It made Addie remember again. Not that Addie had done almost nothing else but remembering, but the good memories, they were like prayers. Faded, half-true, before Addie's reverent polishing. And last night in the summerhouse Addie had been struck with faded memories of a sunny day on a balcony. In the memory Mama was laughing and Addie was happy, and there were plantains fried with palm oil, cold beer for Mama and cold apple juice for Addie, and Mama's red plastic bangles clacking as she reached over to tuck a red flower behind Addie's ear. There had been a song on the radio.

Poking Her with the scissors, Addie rasped out, "Sing."

"What."

Oh Addie's voice was wasted on Her, so wasted. Deep and soothing. The voice for songs, for phone calls, for TV. A voice of creamy milk, of pure honey. The voice of a princess. The first time Addie heard how Addie's voice should have turned out, Addie hadn't known which urge to indulge: to weep, or to cut out Her tongue in a red rage. Addie's voice was wasted on Her, yes, and surely Mama and Papa, too. And now every one of Addie's words was worth heaven; Addie had to be frugal, a princess flung out in rags.

"Si - i - ng." Addie tilted Addie's head. The song on Mama's balcony, what was it? Addie remembered loving it.

The cuffs clinked as She shifted on the floor against the lower bunk. Blood dripped down to Her right eyebrow. Sweat glistened above Her upper lip, all over Her neck, and mingled with the blood on Her tattered white clothes. Good. Bleeding and sweating for Addie. And those eyes of Hers, big and bright and devilish, were fixed on Addie.

And She said nothing.

Of course.

Addie had expected that She wouldn't sing at first poke. The summerhouse was Hers, and Addie's expertise in remembering was because of Her. And the sound of scrabbling fingernails in Addie's throat was also because of Her. And She – did She have anything worth remembering from that year when Addie had been happy with Mama on the balcony? Of course She wouldn't sing right this instant.

Mama had always said, _Baby girl, I love you. I love you, my beautiful baby._ People had always said, _You look just like your mom, Adelaide_.

Whenever Addie looked at Her, the urge to crumple something overcame Addie, to crumple it and shove it in Addie's mouth and chew it and keep it.

Now the song.

"The land," began Addie, each word a magic wish, "is dark. No I won't be afraid. Just as long as you stand." Addie paused. Crackled on, "Stand by me."

That was a flinch. Clinking cuffs.

Addie pointed the scissors at Her. In a whisper, with a small curve of Addie's lips, Addie said, "Sing it now. Or your baby boy –" Addie opened the scissors, snapped it shut. Shink shink shink.

More clinking again, with Her trying to twist this way, trying to turn that way, straining, as if She didn't understand that She was trapped, as if She refused to understand, Her eyes darting around the dim low-ceilinged hell for Her baby boy. Those devilish eyes had been the stuff of Addie's nightmares for years. But no, She was chained securely now. And anyway Addie had already broken Her dancer's feet.

Addie reached over with the scissors, safely squeezed together, to tip Her face back around.

Those devilish eyes, Her eyes, returned to Addie. To Addie's face, to Addie's throat, Addie's throat some more, Addie's throat a bit more, then to Addie's face again. One of the flickering lights died out at last, plunging the room into another shade of dimness.

Then, She let out a low laugh.

A long, low laugh.

Her shoulders shook slightly. The scar on Her cheek was a ghoulish, goading smirk. Her cheeks were wet with blood and sweat, and Her hands were curled into fists.

There were no fists for feet, Addie thought idly. Were there?

"No," said She. "No, I won't fucking sing for you. I won't sing for you."

"Your baby boy."

"I'll kill you. I will gut you, do you understand? You hurt Jason and I will –"

"Ah-ah." Addie stretched Addie's lips and lifted Addie's cheeks. A smile. Addie made a smile. "He's with rabbit now." Addie brandished the scissors again. "This is their blood, see?"

Shink shink shink.

Shink shink shink.

Addie didn't care about Jason but She clearly did, the way Addie had cared about Mama, and that was Her first mistake.

Her jaw twitched and Her chin trembled. Her cheeks became newly wet. Lots of laughs but no smiles for Addie. Her sweaty and blood-smeared chest was rising fast, falling fast. What a beautiful sight.

Addie tilted Addie's head.

There were fists for feet, sort of. Addie's toes curled during the times Addie remembered to touch herself. Oh, those moments. Sweet heaven cupped on Addie's palm, slippery and warm and grasping. Those sweet moments, snatched in this hell, when Addie could almost swear that Addie's soul was at its peak wholeness. Addie also loved remembering those moments. Did feet heal? Toe curls for Her in due time, but only through Addie and with Addie's permission. In due time. After all Mama had used to say, _We will triumph over the Devil_. Addie made another smile. And what was She if not Addie's shadow? What was She if not Addie's rib? She had even taken Addie's name.

"You should have loved me," Addie husked, tracing Her jutting collarbones with the pointy tip of the scissors. Like a sharp metal dove. The scissors whispered down to Her heaving chest, glided along the top of the soiled white fabric. Fluttered between the gentle slopes of Her slick breasts. Beautiful, beautiful devil. She looked just like Addie. In due time Addie's would-be voice would flow out of Her, not as shards, but as rich wine. Addie saw Her throat bob up and down. Addie could smell the hot sting of Her tears. And Addie could hear the rumble of Her guttural breathing, the beginnings of Her old grunts, Her first language.

"You reap what you sow, and you should have loved me. And now you will sing." The words creaked out of Addie. "Oh darling, darling, won't you stand by me?"

_ **fin**  
_

**Author's Note:**

> You're welcome to suggest if I should edit or add tags. :D


End file.
